


Two Problems

by RainySpringMorning



Series: Erik and Koael [2]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Or not..., Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-05
Updated: 2014-12-05
Packaged: 2018-02-28 05:09:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2719871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainySpringMorning/pseuds/RainySpringMorning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whether it's an abandoned dungeon full of spiders or resolving an argument in a bar, Erik always has Koael's back. Set before the events of 'Little Aura' in which Erik and Koael share a room in an inn for the night. It's not like they haven't slept within close proximity of each other - it's just someone's bearing a secret that's going to get out at one point or another.</p><p>The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim belongs to Bethesda Game Studios! All original characters and content is mine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Problems

After four months of crawling through old ruins, emptying forts occupied by bandits, and finding a bone to pick with Forsworn at her side, Erik had come to understand Koael’s ever-changing temperament.

When she was guilty about something, she’d avert her eyes and scuff the toe of her boot in a semi-circle on the ground. If she was angry at herself, she’d immediately try to blame someone else – that someone else usually being Erik. If she was happy, her face would light up like the sun and her shoulders would lose their usual straight angle.

But late this evening, leaning as far as she could over the counter, nose-to-nose with the white Argonian bar mistress, she was steaming mad. Her uneven mess of corkscrew reddish-blonde hair stood on end and her feet were planted apart, and her long fingers dug into the worn surface of the countertop. The bar mistress matched her livid stare and rising caterwauls.

Just a minute ago, Koael had been digging around in the empty depths of her pockets and her knapsack for a few extra coins to buy a second room, since the beds at the Bee and Barb just so happened to be singles. That’s when the bar mistress decided it was the right time to mention she only had one room left, tipping the rest of Koael’s sanity into Oblivion.

Erik was waiting for the daggers to come out from where he sat waiting across from an Imperial wizard cockily practicing his magic for bypassing citizens to “Ooh” and “Ahh” at, in the hopes of being hired and taken on a trip outside the city walls. Beside Erik, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, was a tall, red-haired Nord, watching the scene unfolding at the counter with him.

Passing through the recently-destroyed Shor’s Stone had been a bad idea, for every person there had been seated on salvaged chairs and buckets alongside the road, telling their story of how the dragon “Swooped out of the air and burned down their homes with a single stream of fire!” Koael, being the empathetic-heart she was, was beguiled into dropping coin after coin into each outstretched palm. Erik hadn’t said anything, knowing it would have ended up in “A few words over by that tree,” but it would have saved them all the trouble. Koael would have likely battered Erik’s ears with a long winded explanation about giving to “People who don’t have,” and reminding him that “We’re the fortunate ones!”

Well, it sure didn’t look like they were the fortunate ones now, and who in all of dirty old Riften was about to sacrifice coin they themselves needed?

After fighting their way through Fort Greenwall, with Erik earning himself a nasty jab between the laces of his iron breastplate, the two had staggered up the road to stop in Riften for the night. That brought them to the present, where everyone in the Bee and Barb had turned in their seat to watch the dispute taking place between Argonian and Breton-Bosmer.

Erik sighed, rubbing his tired face. He would have gone up to the counter and said one room was fine, and let Koael have the bed while he took to the floor (they’d slept on cave floors and in used bedrolls for the past week, so what harm would it do for one more night?) but it would have either ended up an even _bigger_ argument than the one currently initiated. Erik knew ahead of time what Koael would say: “You’re wounded, you take the bed.” There would be no and’s, if’s or but’s. There never was with the girl.

Besides, Erik didn’t have a chance to approach the snarling pair, because the red-haired Nord let out a low chuckle and said to Erik, “She with you, lad?”

“Aye,” Erik sighed again, slumping back against the wall, settling in a little more comfortably to watch the catty expressions and gesturing hands continue.

The Nords men watched a moment longer before the red-head commented, “She’s a feisty one, isn’t she?”

Erik laughed softly. “You’ve got that right. Wildest thing I’ve seen, apart from a Forsworn.”

The man grunted agreement, then added, “If I were you, I wouldn’t do or say anything more than offer to sleep in the stables. Looks like she’ll want to rip something’s head off,” he glanced down with a smile. “And I figure you’d like to keep yours.”

Erik glanced up, exasperated, and the man let out a hearty laugh. He uncrossed his arms and handed Erik a few coins, then jerked his head. “That’ll cover what she’s missing.”

“Err… thanks?” Erik muttered, standing sorely and rushing to his companion. Koael hadn’t yet climbed over the counter to start throttling the bar mistress’ neck, so that was a good sign. The Argonian fixed Erik with a helpless but fevered glare as he drew himself up to his full six and three in front of her, handing her the coins the man had so generously offered. The bar mistress went to accept it, but Koael swatted at Erik’s hand.

“Forget it. She only has one room, anyways.” Koael’s tone was tranquil enough but her unusually wide gaze – part of being half-Bosmer, was flinty.

“We’ll take it,” Erik pressed firmly, handing the bar mistress the coins and gripping Koael’s upper arm. She protested childishly, and the bar mistress pointed to the main door where the stairs heading up to the second floor were located. “The one straight across the hall,” she directed before adding the money to a coin purse and turning her scaled back on them to continue cutting up whatever putrid thing she’d been hacking at before they’d walked in. The chops from her knife seemed a _little_ harder than necessary.

Erik herded Koael across the inn, ignoring her squeaks of protests and the staring eyes. He glimpsed the man who’d offered the coin, grinning like a fox – if foxes could grin as craftily as he did. Erik raised his brows slightly and the man tipped his head in a polite nod.

Their boots thumped the stairs loudly, Koael’s skittering slightly as she began her rant about the bar mistress. Her opinions were extremely biased and edged with enough hatred to almost call them racist, although Erik knew she thoroughly was not. Erik listened with one ear, a frequent listener to these series’ of high-pitched, oil-fueled complaints, nodding and “Uh-huh”-ing at what he hoped was the right moments. They came to the door of their room and they both stopped. Koael’s stopped mid-sentence, mouth hanging open.

It was _tiny_.

“Well I’ll take the floor,” Erik broke the silence. “You take the bed.”

“Are you sure?” Koael’s temper eased slightly as she glanced up at Erik. “That wound still hasn’t healed all the way…”

“No, it’s fine,” Erik gave her a little push towards the bed, and started unbuckling his armour. Koael inspected the bed briefly – for lice, Erik figured, and he grimaced in pain when he lifted his iron breastplate over his head, pulling the edges of the jab that had found its way between the laces at his ribs. Koael heard him and returned his side, ignoring Erik’s protests as she studied the wound.

“It looks fine, I think,” Koael laughed, and her fingers brushed Erik’s skin, causing him to flinch slightly. Koael drew her hand back swiftly, the same speed used when plucking an arrow from her quiver, and Erik felt his cheeks flame lightly. It wasn’t pain for his injuries, though. It was _that_ kind of pain, one that bit a little more deeply than he wanted to admit right now.

In a tiny bedroom.

With Koael.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! <3


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